Grace Alive
Copyright © 2013 Natasha House
Smashwords edition
All rights reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Café House Publishing
For: my best friend Mandy.
This one’s for you, girl!
Chapter 1
It was always nine o’clock. Why was it always nine o’clock? I swear nine o’clock hated me. One more hour of retail torture. Can you tell I loved this job? I stared at the crafty supplies that lined shelf after shelf. They mocked me, those little googly eyes that said, your life is pointless, Zoe, absolutely pointless. A ding-dong rang through the small craft store, and I looked up. Who the crap buys glue sticks and glitter at nine o’clock? A little girl ran in. Great. It’s not that I don’t like kids. Kids are great. It’s them knocking over everything in the store that annoys me to no end. Next, another little girl ran in with blonde hair. They were identical.
“CC, and, Evie, don’t touch!” a man said as he held a baby girl in his arms, her wild red ringlets bouncing as he jogged to catch up to the rugrats that just ran amuck in my store.
“Hey! Where did you girls go?”
I watched the man chase the two little girls down the toy aisle. We have a very small toy selection. It mostly consists of toy parts, but kids always run that way. I smiled despite myself. It was pretty funny to watch. It reminded me of a bunch of runaway monkeys at the zoo. The guy was…half cute too. Hey, I’m female I notice these things. The little girl in his arms squealed with joy as he caught up to the twin girls, who looked about three-years-old. The little girl in his arms was roughly around nine months if I was guessing. He grabbed a cart, picked up the twins, and put them inside. The little girls started hugging each other. That was adorable. At least I think they were hugging or choking each other, I couldn’t tell. There were a lot of giggles going on.
“We just need milk, guys. Milk.” I heard the amusement in the man’s voice. I followed their little entourage with my eyes as they zipped down the wrong aisle. Milk was the other way. I slipped out from behind the counter. I walked quickly toward them and went around the corner. I kept my eyes on the guy and wasn’t watching where I was going when bam! I slammed into a display of cans. We also carry canned food. I know, it’s a weird craft store. It’s called Little Bit of Everything. The name fits too. We even carry toilet plungers in aisle three. The man and his kids turned around at the ruckus I just caused. I blushed two shades of red as he whipped the cart around toward me.
“Are you alright?” His twins started scrambling out of the cart, trying to pick up the cans that were rolling under the counter and down the aisle like mini racecars.
“Milk! Milk!” the twins chanted. Oh man. I had made a huge mess for myself. I slapped my hands over my face and let out a breath. Okay, Zoe, you can do this.
“I’m fine, thanks. I was…just going to tell you the milk is the other way.” I should have just let him wander around the store. So much for being helpful.
He laughed. “Thanks.” He stuck the baby in the cart and strapped her in. “CC, Evie, let’s help okay?” he said to the little girls that were chasing the cans all around the place. It was the cutest thing in the world. I giggled. It was really funny. We started restacking the goofy cans of only God-knows-what. I think they were cans of spinach. Where was Popeye when I needed him? The little people helped gather the runaways and giggled the whole time. Their dad made a game out of it, which I thought was amusing. Soon my whole display of cans was back in one piece.
“Thanks,” I said still feeling flushed. His warm brown eyes were staring at my face. He was wearing a black, light weighted, zip-up hoodie, and dark jeans.
“You’re welcome…um…?” His kids started playing with the bags of toys hanging up behind us. These girls were sure active!
“Zoe.”
“Branson. Do you…ugh…Evie, CC, don’t put that in your mouth!” He flashed me a nice straight smile, his sandy brown hair was slightly spiked in the front. I did a quick glance at his left hand and ring finger. No ring. Whoa. Was this guy just a major player or what? Or did he just not wear his wedding ring, like some of the other married men I’ve known. I let out an inward sigh. I’m 26 and counting. More than once, my parents have reminded me of this fact. I’ve seen almost all of my friends marry off and multiply like rabbits.
“Milk?” he asked and tickled his little girl’s neck. She giggled and waved her hands around.
“It’s over here, I’ll show you.” I blushed as I led the way to the other side of the store. I still felt like an idiot about the stacked cans. Branson reached into the cooler, grabbed a gallon of milk, and placed it into the cart. He then raced to the front of the store, making his kids scream with glee as they followed behind him. I rang him up and smiled at the little munchkins. They were so adorable. The twins made my heart melt. They were wearing matching purple dresses that looked like some sort of Disney princess, and I could see the leftovers of little kid makeup on their cheeks. They had round, Dora the explorer faces, that you just wanted to kiss. Ah! So cute! The baby was petite, with red curls, big green eyes, and she was wearing a little pink jump suit with bugs on it.
“Milk, milk! Daddy, we got milk!” the twins said together, running in little circles. They reminded me of two little puppies chasing their tails. Cute as heck.
“It was nice to meet you, Zoe. Say goodbye to Zoe, girls!” He tickled the little baby’s chin again. She giggled and clapped her hands, her two little teeth showing when she smiled. The twins bounced up and down. “Bye, Zoe! Bye!”
“Bye, guys!” I said smiling, their joy was infectious.
***
I walked into my parents’ house after 10 still thinking about Branson and his little motley crew. I hung my purse up on a hook by the door and kicked off my shoes. I let out a long sigh. It was good to be out of work. The house smelled like cinnamon and apples. Mom must have been baking some muffins for breakfast tomorrow. Our house has a very homey feel, thanks to my mom. It was two-stories, with tan carpet, wooden floors in the kitchen, four bedrooms, and a closet under the stairs. When I was a kid, my brother and I would pretend the closet was a cave.
“Hey, sweetheart, how was work?” my mom asked from the kitchen. Sure enough, she had her apron on and a little smidge of flour on the front. My mother is the neatest cook I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Work.” I sauntered over to our brown leather couch with a wooly afghan thrown over the top of it. I flipped the TV on and absentmindedly went through the channels. I should be writing my book. Ugh. I never felt like I had the energy to finish that thing. When I was a teenager, I’d been told I had a talent for writing, and it had become my whole world for awhile. Then I got a job. Jobs suck. Now all I wanted to do was pass out when I got home.
“Anything exciting happen?” My mother Carol walked into the living room wiping her hands on her apron. My mom is a pastor’s wife. She’s got manicured fingernails, a blonde bob, respectable clothing, and the perfect manners.
“No, not really.” For some reason I didn’t want to tell her about Branson. I w
ouldn’t be able to talk about him without blushing, and then she’d think I was some kind of sinner for liking a man who was probably married. I already felt weird enough about it. Can’t a girl just admire someone’s good looks without getting nailed on the head with a hammer? My dad walked in behind my mom and gave me a nod. He was wearing a button down black shirt, with a gray tie, and black dress pants. I hardly ever saw my dad in like say, Sponge Bob pajama pants. He’s just not that way. My dad is grim. So, so, grim. I think it’s because he listens to people whine all day. I couldn’t do his job; I’d want to kill someone.
I was surprised they were both up this late. Most the time when I got home they were asleep. Something must have been keeping them up tonight. Once and awhile my dad had meetings with members of our church that ran long. I just wanted to be alone really. My mind was still spinning about Branson and who he was. Did anyone I know, know him? Our city wasn’t that big. I felt like my parents wanted to talk, so I ignored Netflix for a minute.
“How was your day today, guys?” I asked them. My mom looked distracted and moved around the room like she wanted to go back to the kitchen to clean it for the third time. I felt her anxiety. Weird.
“I counseled with Mia today, it seems her and Tomas have been getting along better than they used to.”
Mia is my best friend. She’s crazy and awesome. She and Tomas have been dealing with some marriage stuff lately that has concerned me. My dad has been really helping her through it, or so she tells me.
“Oh, that’s great, Dad, I’m sure she really appreciates your time.” I gave him what I hoped was a decent looking smile. It could have come out more like a smirk though because my facial muscles felt tired.
“Did you have your quiet time today, Zoe?” my dad asked with a serious tone that would make a baby cry. Man. Had I? I didn’t even remember. I had been running late before I’d left for work, because my alarm hadn’t gone off, and I’d taken a nap. Yes, I lived with my parents. I know its super lame. But, living on my own in my city is impossible. If I said, ‘No I forgot’ I would get an hour lecture about prayer, if I said, ‘Yes’ would I go to Hell for lying? I had no freaking clue. I had read a scripture on a billboard, did that count? I was exhausted and not really in the mood for an hour lecture.
“Yeah.”
He gave a satisfied nod and turned from the room. My dad is like a bulldog. If you get him latched onto something he won’t let go until he rips it apart. Which is good when he’s facing the devil and all that. My dad’s church has over 500 people in it, which is huge in Northern Michigan. People call him the ‘no nonsense’ preacher. He doesn’t put up with bull in other words. Problem is when you’re his kid, you get a lot of bull knocked out of your head. I know my parents are disappointed in me.
I mean, I’m 26, unmarried, living in their house, and working at a lame craft store. I did try to go to college ages ago. They called that my wild years or whatever, because I chose to go to a college that wasn’t Christian based. It didn’t really work out though. I mean look where I am now. I sighed as I watched my dad walk away, and my mom soon followed after him. They were good people; just sometimes I wanted a break from all these rules.
I finally found a show that was half-way decent and let my mind relax. I watched a guy and a girl flirting with each other. Branson’s face flashed through my head. Shoot. There I go thinking about him again. Why in the world did he keep popping into my head like a jack-in-the-box?
After an hour of some cheesy TV, I made my way toward my bathroom to get ready for bed. I ran a brush through my mid-length reddish-blondish hair, brushed my teeth, and went to the bathroom. Ugh. I felt like a zombie. I went into my room, slipped into my pajamas, and fell into bed. Literally I fell. I clutched my pillow to my head and felt my exhaustion overwhelm me.
Chapter 2
“Zoe! Get out of bed, or we are going to leave without you!” my mom said at my door. I forgot today was Sunday. Oh man. It’s not that I don’t like church, it’s just that it’s early, and I’m tired.
“I’m up, Mom!” I said, so that she wouldn’t barge in and shake me. My mom is a morning person to the extreme. She wakes up at like four in the morning. I’m not even kidding. When I was a kid, she’d wake me and my older brother up and get us ready for school like three hours early. After awhile, she realized that, that was a terrible idea and let us sleep a little longer.
I thought about Jonathan. I missed him. He’d moved to Texas the first chance he’d got. He was married when he was 25 to this girl, who was really sweet. He’s the perfect son in my parents’ eyes, probably because his wife popped out three kids already. They only see them through Facebook, but my mom still gushes on and on about her little angels. Jonathan has only come back twice since being married. If that tells you anything about anything.
I stumbled out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. After showering, I went back into my room to pick out a respectable outfit. I chose a black, knee-length skirt, a sparkly white top, and a hanging black cardigan overtop of it. I picked out some black heels and did my makeup really quick. Dad would turn red if I put a ton of makeup on, but I finally got him used to me wearing some mascara and lipstick. I grabbed my purse that contained my Bible, notebook, wallet, and pens; then turned off my bedroom light. Let’s do this thing.
I rode with my parents since it saved gas. Our church was only like 10 minutes away, but gas money was gas money right? Our building is breathtaking. Light on the Hill Church is nestled on this beautiful hill overlooking Lake Michigan. It has a bunch of windows in the sanctuary that give you a perfect view of the lake. Dad had all this professional stuff done to it, so that it felt like you’re walking into a cathedral. We are non-denominational, so we get all kinds that come here.
My dad liked to be an hour early to pray in his office. I usually just wandered around bored. I know I could have slept in longer, but I needed to save up every penny I earned. Jacob Whitmen walked in the door just a moment after we got there. Mom was dusting or something, so she didn’t see the look that guy gave me. He is so creepy. He’s 28, slicked brown hair, and tiny eyes that always looked at me like I’m a piece of meat. It’s disgusting. I think he called dibs on me with God or whatever, because I swear that guy thinks he owns me.
“Hi ya, Zoe-doughy,” he said with a sleazy smile. He always called me stupid nicknames that got under my skin.
“Hi, Jacob,” I said dryly and went to go find something to do. Maybe I could go take communion or something.
“How was your weekend?” he asked with this undertone of let’s hang out one of these weekends. I’m sorry, but this guy was creepy on steroids. The sucky thing is that my dad loves him. Jacob sucks up big time. More than once my dad nudged me toward Jacob to talk. Our conversations made me want to ram my head in the wall.
“My weekend was great,” I said without batting an eye. I adjusted my purse over my shoulder and fidgeted.
“Maybe next weekend, if you’re not too busy…” he started to say.
“I’ve got to work.” I tried to sound sad. I wondered if it was working? Probably not.
“Are you still writing that book of yours?” He sounded like he was mocking me. Was he actually making fun of me? It feels like people think I’m a failure and can’t accomplish a darn thing in my life.
“Yeah, I am,” I answered. I really wanted to just go take communion. It would be way better than talking to this guy.
“How’s that going? Did you finish it yet?” he asked and gave me a smile.
“No.” I gave him that girl look that says, go away you’re annoying me, but I still don’t think he gets that look.
“Oh.” Jacob shifted in his sparkly black shoes. Just then I was saved, because a couple of my friends walked in. Thank you, God!
“Zoe!” my friend Mia said, her arms outstretched. I gladly went into them. Her long brown hair hung in a braid by her pale face. Mia is as pale as a vampire, has full pouty lips, a trim figure, wears pretty dresses nonstop,
and she’s my best friend. She’s also married to Tomas and has three kids. See what I mean about them multiplying like rabbits?
“How are you!” She squeezed me tight and kissed my cheeks. She was wearing a red dress that hung in ruffles in the front. It was very flattering on her. I’d seen a couple guys glance at her when she walked in. I wonder if she even noticed that. I got looks sometimes too, but between my dad and Jacob I think they were too afraid to get close to me. Most the guys in my church avoided me like the plague.
“I’m good, how are the kids?”
Mia threw a look behind her shoulder as Tomas dragged in a baby car seat and two kids that had leashes. Yes, I said leashes. Their kids are insane.
“Oh, they’re great.” I could read a look in her eyes that said, they are driving me insane, but kept silent. Tomas handed the leashes over to Mia and gave me a tired smile.
“Hi, Zoe, how’s work going?”
That was the only thing that Tomas asked me about. Work. Poor guy. I think he only has like 100 words in his vocabulary. And he’d married Miss Talk herself. Mia grabbed my arm and dragged me away, her two children following behind her like puppies.
“Is Jacob bothering you again?” She looked over at Jacob who was smiling toward us like a cat who just ate a mouse.
“No, he’s just being Jacob.” I shrugged. “It’s nothing new.”
“I saw the I want to kill myself look when he talked to you.” She laughed as I rolled my eyes at her.
“It’s fine. He’s as harmless as an annoying fly. One of these days I think I need to get out a fly swatter and whack him one. That might keep him away for awhile.” I totally could picture a bug face on Jacob. It made me laugh to myself.
“Come on, Ezra, Nehemiah; let’s go play in the nursery with Daddy.” Mia tugged her kids along.
Yes, Mia names her kids weird stuff. The baby’s name is Atarah. It’s some weird name she found in the Bible. She’s so cute though! Tomas dragged all three kids toward the nursery to give Mia girl time. I’m pretty sure Mia would explode if she didn’t have time away from her kids.
Grace Alive: a Christian Romance Page 1